


In Service and Solitude

by ExaltedBrand



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Seisen no Keifu | Fire Emblem: Genealogy of the Holy War
Genre: Age Difference, Bittersweet, Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Gentle Sex, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Knight/Liege Dynamics, Making Out, Nipple Licking, Older Woman/Younger Woman, Porn With Plot, Romance, Sad in Context, Stress Relief, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:34:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26797426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExaltedBrand/pseuds/ExaltedBrand
Summary: Upon their return from Sailane, Queen Lahna and Annand share a moment of intimacy in the final days of Silesse's uneasy peace.
Relationships: Mahnya | Annand/Rahna
Comments: 7
Kudos: 14





	In Service and Solitude

**Author's Note:**

> Pairing suggestion from Cormilla

Annand had always thought that the evening sky cast such a peculiar shade across the snowy plains of Silesse. Up in the clouds, as she so often was, she could bear witness to the full spectrum of colours: an eerie, shimmering indigo against the sides of the mountains that mixed uneasily with the orange sunset before finally fading away, once night had truly fallen, into a deep blue that was almost black. Light, then swallowed up by shadow, could no longer illuminate the world; but it still reflected off the endless snow and ice to paint the sky in a thousand twinkling stars.

Once, she and her sister had loved the way Silesse looked like a dreamscape at night. But now Annand was older—now that she had seen the hardships of war, the dishonesty of politics, and the fragility of peace—it made her sad to watch the day inevitably vanish. All of Jugdral went silent; and sometimes, when the sun went down and the cold intensified, it felt as if the whole continent’s happiness had slipped away with it.

The people of Silesse were, of course, accustomed to the cold; and so too were they used to the hardships that came with war and politics. In the wake of her husband’s death, Queen Lahna had been forced to shoulder the heavy burdens of ruling the country all by herself; and her younger brothers, Duke Maios and Duke Daccar, ever eager to take advantage of her vulnerability, plotted openly to seize power under the flimsy justifications of an inheritance dispute. The threat of civil war hung over Silesse, and Annand could see all too clearly the effect it was having on her queen. Lahna slept poorly, stressed over the smallest of matters – and though she held strong for her people, never forgetting her kindness or her desire for peace and reconciliation with her brothers, she was deeply, desperately afraid.

And then, as if yet another test thrust upon her queen by the goddess Naga, there was the matter of Lord Sigurd. In her generosity, Lahna had offered the prince of Chalphy and his allies—falsely accused for the murder of Prince Kurth of Grannvale—sanctuary in Sailane Castle. But her act of compassion, so it seemed, now only threatened to involve him in another senseless war all of her own.

Troubles piled on troubles, and the dark times ahead loomed ever larger with each passing day.

By the time Annand and Lahna arrived back at Silesse Castle from a visit to Sailane, it was late. The sky had turned that same strange mixture of light orange and dark blue that Annand hated to look upon, and the castle’s halls were disconcertingly silent. With the recent tensions, most of the guards had either been posted along the outer walls or in fortifications along the roads to Zaxon and Thove, leaving the royal castle’s interior almost entirely uninhabited.

“How terrible that Lord Sigurd should be caught up in all this nonsense with my brothers,” Lahna sighed. She and Annand linked arms as they walked the empty halls, secure in their privacy. “Before long, I suspect Maios will make his move against Sailane… and I’m utterly powerless to stop it. What an awful host I must seem – granting him refuge here only to thus draw him into the crossfire of such our petty squabbles…”

“Come now, milady,” Annand said. “You’ve done the best you can for him, given the circumstances. Besides which, you heard his words: Lord Sigurd’s army is experienced, and more than capable of repelling Thove, should it come to that. And with Erinys and Prince Lewyn fighting by their side, Duke Maios would find himself facing formidable opposition indeed if he tried anything so foolish.”

“Perhaps you’re right.” There was another sigh, deeper than the last. “But… well, Annand, if I’m entirely honest, Lewyn’s presence among them only causes me more grief. The boy’s changed so much – and for the better, too. It’s plain to see that his time alongside Lord Sigurd has done him good. But now that he’s returned, now that I’m so happy to see him safe, to see him risking his life for such a noble cause… I feel quite selfish. I wish he were here in the castle—here, to bring some life and colour to these dreary halls—instead of putting himself in danger. Despicable though Maios and Daccar’s ambitions are, it pains me to see him preparing to take up arms against his own family…”

“Permit me to say, milady, that you needn’t worry. Lord Sigurd’s proven to be a skilled commander, and my sister, for what little time she’s spent fighting by his side, speaks exceptionally highly of him. As young as still she is, I shouldn’t doubt her judgement on anything. Prince Lewyn’s very lucky to have served under him.”

“I’ve no doubt of Lord Sigurd’s abilities. It’s just that… sometimes, Annand, I feel as though the world is coming to an end. So much war, so much loss, so much needless fighting… I fear I may not live to see the day that peace returns to Jugdral at this rate. I don’t mean to sound greedy, but I need you by my side more than ever.”

“I’m right here,” Annand said, squeezing her arm. “I’ll always be here for you.”

In the years following the king’s death, Annand had been many things to her queen: a friend, a shoulder, an anchor. As Lahna’s most trusted pegasus knight, she had been privy to the deepest parts of the queen’s heart, and had helped carry her through grief and stress and the never-ending troubles of leadership. They had formed a bond based on trust and dependence, standing side by side in matters both public and private.

And through that bond, Annand had become so much more than a simple confidant to Lahna.

“Annand…” Lahna said softly. Her voice carried a weight of sadness to it; a sound that had become more common in recent years. “I don’t know how much longer we’ll have together. Everything these days seems clouded by such uncertainty, and… and I can’t help but fear the worst.”

“Don’t say such things. With Lord Sigurd and the others working diligently to restore peace, then if nothing else, our children will be able to live happy, prosperous lives.”

A brief smile touched Lahna’s lips. “ _Our_ children, you say? Are you speaking for the continent, or had you planned on eventually marrying a noble gentleman and having children of your own?”

“You know such a life hardly suits me, milady,” Annand said, and she found herself returning the smile. “So long as I’m at your side, I’ll be content.”

Lahna’s arm tightened around her knight’s, and her cheeks turned the gentlest shade of red. “And I’ll be happiest of all, Annand, to have you by _my_ side. But please don’t ever feel shackled by your service to me. Should the day ever come where you yearn for more…”

“Never. My heart belongs to you, my queen – from now, until the end.”

The hallways drew on, drenched in the last dying rays of the sun. Shadows stretched across their path, concealing the webs that dangled from above and the dust heavy in the air. Silence had made its home here; settled into every crack and cranny, just barely disturbed by their presence.

A chill ran through Annand, like an odd foreboding that cut straight to her heart. Perhaps it was just the cold spilling through those cracks, bringing the cold northern air in its wake.

Lahna’s pace slowed, and Annand slowed with her, eventually coming to halt just next to a window. Outside, the frostbitten forests and mountains surrounding Silesse rolled on as far as the eye could see.

Annand was drawn to the sight for a moment, strangely captivated. As a pegasus knight, she was well acquainted with the beauty of the land, but even cast in that uncanny evening light, its beauty was unparalleled when the snow was at its thickest like this. Everything was cleaner, sharper, more elegant in its simplicity. The hills were smoothed over, and the peaks less rugged.

Then she felt her queen’s hand brush her cheek, and she was drawn into a kiss.

Lahna’s lips were cold—a Silessean was rarely ever warm, and its queen was no exception—but Annand didn’t mind. Not today. She closed her eyes as Lahna’s fingers weaved into her hair, pulling her face closer and deeper into the kiss.

In happier days, when the castle was alive with activity, they might have needed to pay greater care to their surroundings. The queen was a widow, and though she was well-loved and respected by her people, there were those who would have used rumours of intimacy with her knight—those such as her brothers—to undermine her moral authority and to topple her from her rightfully-gotten throne. But tonight, with the halls all but abandoned and the sun setting outside, the queen and her lover were as alone as they could be. Annand’s hands found Lahna’s hips, and Lahna’s found hers.

She thought back, briefly, on the first time they’d kissed: a recollection stirred up by that same cold, sad feeling in her heart. In mourning for her husband, Lahna had sought comfort in Annand’s arms – that comfort had led to intimacy, and that intimacy had brought a deep, suppressed longing in the queen’s heart flooding back to the surface. It had been a sad kiss, more driven by desperation and necessity than anything else, but the feelings behind it—her admiration for Annand, her desire to be held close and consoled, to feel love like the love she’d lost again—had been powerful enough to spark something more.

Annand was still her knight; this love and devotion to her a service rendered in the name of duty. But as their lips parted and their tongues brushed so briefly together, as Lahna’s scent washed over her, as her hands found the curves of Lahna’s body and her mind filled with indecent thoughts of her figure, she was aware how much deeper their relationship ran than loyalty to a liege.

The kiss broke gently, and their eyes met. The last light of the sun painted Lahna’s face with vivid oranges and reds, setting her alight with beauty.

“Annand,” Lahna whispered. “I fear my mind might run in terrible circles if it’s left to itself – all these thoughts of Lewyn, and my brothers, and Lord Sigurd’s terrible circumstances. Would you stay with me tonight? I would sleep more easily with you by my side…”

Annand took Lahna’s hand in her own. There was no need for the queen to ask, of course. Her answer, like her devotion, was never in doubt.

“As you wish, milady.”

* * *

For a queen, Lahna had never favoured extravagance. Her room in Silesse Castle was small and quaint, decorated with little more than a bed, a writing desk, a bookshelf, and a chest for her clothes. A portrait of her late husband, dashing and handsome in his youth, hung on one wall. While he was alive, the two had shared a much more lavish space; but when he had died, Lahna had sought to retreat into a world of quiet solitude, and so this small room, high in the north tower, had been sufficient for her needs.

But tonight, it wasn’t quiet. Tonight, the patter of rain on the window was overlaid by the gentle sounds of her and Annand’s bodies moving together. The queen’s dress hung loosely on the floor in a puddle of red and white, her usually neat hair was wild and unkempt, and Annand’s gold-white uniform was discarded at the foot of the bed.

Lahna’s hands ran over Annand’s body, any trace of hesitation from the years prior long since shed. She’d learned the contours of her knight’s form by heart, and she squeezed her fingers around Annand’s waist, feeling the swell of her hips and the firmness of her stomach.

Annand kissed her, long and deep, her arms wrapped around her queen’s body. Her skin was soft, and the light of the silver moon that peered through the clouds revealed her regal form in all its stunning beauty. She was Annand’s lady, her love, and her life; and Lahna returned all her affections in full.

“Annand…” Her voice was pleading and breathless. “My love… Please, tonight…”

Lahna had a shy, quiet demeanour that rarely brought her to make demands of others. But she was also the lover of a very understanding knight – and Annand knew her desires as she knew her own.

“With pleasure, milady.”

One of Annand’s hands reached down to caress Lahna’s outer thigh, stroking softly. Tenderly, her hand crept upwards, her fingers brushing tantalisingly close to her queen’s womanhood, and Lahna let out a quiet gasp. The sound only spurred Annand onward, her fingers cupping gently over her mound and feeling the warmth from within. Her other hand trailed up, slowly, to touch her chest just above her bosom. Lahna’s breathing was already ragged, her face turned up to the heavens, her eyes squeezed shut in desperate anticipation; and when Annand’s fingers finally slid between her folds, the gasp became a low moan. The knight worked her usual comforting motions—the kind she always serviced her queen with in times of stress—and coaxed her apart, searching for the softest, most delicate petals within.

Lahna arched her back, and Annand’s other hand rubbed in small circles around her breast, teasing out brief sighs of pleasure, and a longer one escaped her throat as the knight’s fingers delved deeper. Her eyes, glazed over with lust and love, stared longingly into her lover’s own, and Annand closed the distance to kiss her.

The queen returned the kiss eagerly, opening her mouth and allowing entrance. Their tongues twisted and strove against one another, a dance as old as time, and the kiss grew increasingly passionate with each moment, each smack of their lips, each brush of their teeth. Annand’s fingers continued to work, rubbing up, then down, then up again, feeling the growing heat against her palm. Lahna broke the kiss with a gasp, then sighed as her head fell back, exposing her pale, freckled neck.

“More…” she moaned softly.

Annand obliged. Her heart was soaring, and she had no words left to express her admiration; so instead her fingers rubbed faster, delicately massaging Lahna’s clit with her palm. Every sound she made was wonderful to the knight: every moan, every gasp, every whispered word. She was Lahna’s knight, her bodyguard, her trusted confidant, and her happiness was Annand’s happiness.

Lahna’s hips angled upwards to meet her lover’s hand, and Annand waited for her moans to reach their crest before lowering her head to take one of her nipples in her mouth. The queen let out a long, drawn out moan at the sudden sensation, and Annand pushed her fingers faster into her, harder. The night was cold around them, and there was a deeper chill lurking in Annand’s chest, but Lahna’s body was so warm and inviting. Annand relished in the sensation of skin against skin, and Lahna squirmed and writhed beneath her as her fingers carried out their duty.

She was beautiful, Annand thought. Even as Lahna wasn’t as young as she’d used to be, twenty years older than when she’d given birth to her son, she was filled with a quiet, understated beauty that Annand had trouble pulling her eyes away from. Where many other women her age would have lost the lustre of their youth long ago, the years had only served to make the queen all the more enticing, and her once thin waist had grown matronly with a mother’s poise and an aristocrat’s dignity.

And in the dim light of the room, shadows buried her wrinkles and banished her age altogether.

“Oh, my love! I… Annand…!”

Part of Annand, darker and repressed, loved it when Lahna called her name; loved the satisfaction of driving her queen to such heights, of having someone so powerful be so submissive to her. The other part of her, caring and compassionate, loved that she could be so free with her feelings, so comfortable and safe with her that she could she enjoy herself so thoroughly and express every small moment of relief.

In the world beyond the window—where the rain fell, where Lahna’s son made ready to wage war with his uncles, where the white landscape would soon enough be stained in red—everything was so terrible, so dark and bleak.

But in here, where the fireplace crackled, where the bedsheets were warm, where Lahna’s moans filled both the night and Annand’s heart…

In here, Annand brought her to climax.

The queen cried out, a short burst of sound that formed part of a word, part of a name. Her body shook in pleasure beneath Annand’s, and her walls tensed up, soaking the knight’s palm in her release. Her breath was heavy, heaving with exhaustion; and then, finally, she relaxed. The pulsing around Annand’s fingers subsided, and she drew them out of her.

Annand leaned down to kiss Lahna on the lips, affectionate and loving. The queen returned the kiss, and her arms curled around Annand, one gripping her shoulders, the other gently caressing her hair and neck, drawing her closer.

“Ah…” she panted. “You always know just what to do…”

“I try,” Annand replied, smiling.

A heavy silence filled the room, briefly broken by the crackling of the fire, before Lahna spoke again.

“Annand…?”

“Yes, my love?”

Lahna gave her an odd look: a mixture of sadness and yearning that surpassed the expression she’d worn upon their return. Then, she smiled, shaking her head.

“Forgive me. It’s nothing,” she said. “Would you… come here? I’d like to hold you…”

Annand nodded, pressing up into her embrace. The queen’s arms wrapped around her, and her head found rest on her chest. Lahna combed her fingers through her hair, and another silence fell.

Here in her arms, Annand had everything she needed; and Lahna, holding her like this, was just as content. Even as the world threatened to fall apart beyond their walls, and the spectre of war loomed over Silesse, they could weather it as they’d always done: side by side, trusting and relying on one another. The sky was dark outside, and the rain battered down relentlessly, but in time—for however long the night lasted—the sun would eventually dawn on a new day.

“I love you, my Annand.”

Annand looked up at her and smiled.

“I love you too, my beautiful queen.”

The wind howled outside, a ferocious, chilling sound. Then, with all the suddenness of a heartbeat, it fell still.

**Author's Note:**

> Unfortunately, FE4 doesn't tend towards happy endings.


End file.
